


One Night in Markarth

by phoenixquest



Series: Ryndoril and Ondolemar [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Sex, Thalmor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryndoril finds Ondolemar occupied with work and thinks the Altmer needs to relax. Luckily he has just the thing – a bottle of Colovian Brandy…and a willing Bosmer. (Immediately follows Saved From the Forsworn) </p>
<p>I don’t own Skyrim, Bethesda does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night in Markarth

It was after dark as Ryndoril made his way through the streets of Markarth. Ondolemar had just left him that morning, but already he was eager to see the elf again - he hadn’t thought about much else all day. Ondolemar’s parting words, hoping that he would see Ryndoril later, had stuck in his mind since the elf walked out the door.

Ryndoril crept through Understone Keep, making sure to stay out of sight; he wasn’t doing anything wrong, but it was partly a thief’s habit and partly that he just didn’t want to talk to anyone besides a certain Altmer.

Luckily Ondolemar’s guards were occupied playing some game with dice; Ryndoril didn’t pause to see what it was all about. Sticking to the shadows, he managed to get into the Thalmor’s private room and shut the door. 

He saw Ondolemar sitting at his desk, half-slumped over some papers with a low-burnt candle next to him, seemingly barely able to focus. He had clearly been working too hard, and Ryndoril felt a pang of sympathy for him.

“You been doing this all day?”

Ondolemar jerked hard, head spinning to find the voice and a flame spell in his hands before he even knew what was happening.

“Whoa, whoa,” Ryndoril said, spreading his hands peacefully in front of him. “No need to set me on fire.”

“Ryndoril?” Ondolemar asked, utterly shocked. The flames disappeared from his hands. “How did you get in here?”

“Your guards were playing some game,” Ryndoril grinned. “They didn’t see me.”

“Comforting,” Ondolemar said dryly.

“Don’t worry,” Ryndoril chuckled. “Not sure there’s anyone else in Tamriel who could stick to the shadows like I can.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?” Ondolemar asked, sounding slightly amused.

“Just the truth,” Ryndoril shrugged. He didn’t want to explain to Ondolemar at the moment that he had the powers of a Daedric prince at his back when it came to the shadows. “Have you stopped working since you left this morning?”

“Hardly,” Ondolemar sighed, feeling rather grateful for the interruption. “Between the Jarl, his court, complaints, and paperwork, I’ve barely had a moment to breathe.”

“Have you even _eaten_?” Ryndoril asked, shaking his head.

“I did have dinner,” Ondolemar nodded. “Cyndil brought me something. What are you doing here?”

“I…well, I really just wanted to see you,” Ryndoril said. He felt silly saying the words, but enjoyed the pink tinge that appeared on Ondolemar’s cheeks.

“I still have much to do, after my ill-advised jaunt through the Reach yesterday,” Ondolemar said, not really wanting the mer to go but knowing he had duties to attend to. “You should go.”

“Oh, come on,” Ryndoril said, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got to take a break sometime. You’ll work yourself to death.”

“Excuse me,” Ondolemar said coolly, tense and on edge from working so much that day. He didn’t really mean to snap at Ryndoril - most of him was longing for the Bosmer to stay – but he wasn’t used to dealing politely with anyone, either. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I know perfectly well what I can and cannot handle.” Ryndoril raised an eyebrow at him.

“You look like you’re about to fall over,” Ryndoril said bluntly. “No one can work nonstop.”

“I can, and I’m going to,” Ondolemar said, narrowing his eyes at the Bosmer. He was not fond of anyone telling him what he could do. “I suggest you get out of here before I am forced to call my guards.” 

Ryndoril was a little shocked, he had to admit. As grateful for his presence as Ondolemar seemed to be before, he didn’t really expect him to act like this now. Then again, if he’d been working all day… Ryndoril was sure he could actually _see_ the tension in the Thalmor’s shoulders. 

“Where are your robes?” Ryndoril asked, throwing the other mer off with the random question. “Get them repaired?”

“I – yes, I’ve left them with the smith,” Ondolemar said, sounding nonplussed. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Ryndoril shrugged, crossing his arms and staring at the other mer. The question had stopped him sounding as angry, but it hadn’t calmed him any. “Seriously, Ondolemar, you really should just relax for a minute or two.”

“I was perfectly relaxed until you came along,” Ondolemar said, returning to annoyed almost at once. Ryndoril actually laughed at that one, and Ondolemar’s face reddened in anger.

“You’re tense as a bowstring,” Ryndoril said. “Come on, now. I’m not stupid.”

“Well I wouldn’t call you smart, defying the direct order of a Thalmor Commander,” Ondolemar snapped, his eyes flashing. That one stung Ryndoril a little, but he was determined; he’d seen the kinder, nicer side of this mer, and he was going to dig down to it again. It was obvious the Altmer was being so rough because he was overworking himself.

“Smart enough to remember something a handsome mer told me,” he smirked, producing a bottle from his small pack. He enjoyed the embarrassed pleasure the compliment obviously caused Ondolemar, throwing him off once again.

“And what is that?” Ondolemar spat, glaring at the bottle though he looked incredibly curious.

“Just something I picked up for you,” Ryndoril said, walking over to the desk and setting it down, carefully avoiding the papers Ondolemar was working on. He made sure the label was facing the Altmer. Ondolemar finally glanced down at it, then did a double-take.

“You…that’s…”

“You said it was your favorite, didn’t you?” Ryndoril asked, a little less sure of himself than he had been a moment ago. It was a bottle of Colovian Brandy, just like Ondolemar had mentioned when they talked before, and he really wanted the mer to be pleased.

“I did,” Ondolemar murmured, staring at the bottle in disbelief. “You…you remembered that?”

“Of course I remembered,” Ryndoril said, his voice softer and more serious. “I also remembered that your favorite color is green, and your favorite food was your mother’s roast chicken and potatoes. You know almost nothing about alchemy, and a lot about enchanting. I remember you like Skyrim but miss your home. You were in the war, and you miss traveling the country. I remember everything you told me,” Ryndoril finished softly, his eyes not leaving the Altmer’s. Ondolemar was stunned.

“Why?” he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper. There was an odd feeling inside of him, a strange warmth he wasn’t familiar with.

“I don’t know,” Ryndoril shrugged, looking a little confused. “I just…really like you. I _wanted_ to remember everything you said.”

Ondolemar got to his feet, seemingly in a daze. Ryndoril watched him carefully as the Altmer came over to him, stopping just in front of him.

“No one has ever paid such close attention to anything I’ve said,” Ondolemar whispered, the stunned look still in his eyes. But Ryndoril was sure there was something else there. Was it…desire?

“Well, none of _them_ were very smart, then, were they?” Ryndoril whispered back, moving ever-so-slightly closer to Ondolemar, just to see what he’d do. Ondolemar looked confused, hesitant, and about a million other emotions for just a split second, and then before Ryndoril could even register that he’d moved, the other elf had kissed him for the second time.

And this time, he was sober.

Ryndoril tried hard to contain his excitement, kissing Ondolemar back gently though his pounding heart demanded he do more. Ondolemar seemed to agree, and Ryndoril felt him deepen the kiss as his hands reached for the Bosmer’s shoulders.

That was what undid Ryndoril, and he finally let himself go; the next moment he was positively clinging to Ondolemar, their arms wrapped possessively around one another as their kisses became fiercer. This was what the Bosmer had wanted; he had wanted it so very much since he last kissed those impossibly soft lips. 

Soon their hands were wandering over one another; Ryndoril brought one hand up to Ondolemar’s hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling the mer closer. Ondolemar responded enthusiastically, and the Altmer’s hand trailed up Ryndoril’s back before stroking through his hair, then clasping the Bosmer’s ear between his fingers.

Ryndoril let out a shuddering groan, hardening instantly. Ondolemar smiled a little, pulling back just slightly from Ryndoril to look into his eyes.

“Sensitive?” he murmured. Yes, that was _definitely_ desire he saw, Ryndoril decided.

“Mmhmm,” Ryndoril breathed. “Aren’t yours?”

“Terribly so,” Ondolemar confessed, sounding almost hopeful. With a knowing grin, Ryndoril brought his fingers up to one of the Altmer’s pointed ears, fondling the tip of it. Ondolemar’s eyes closed as he shuddered with desire.

“I guess this will do for a second kiss,” Ryndoril teased, releasing the other mer’s ear. Ondolemar’s eyes blinked open in confusion.

“Second kiss?”

“You kissed me before,” Ryndoril laughed, clasping his hands behind Ondolemar’s neck. “A week ago, when I brought you back here to your bed. You surprised the hell out of me and kissed me before I left.”

“I – I did?” Ondolemar asked, wrong-footed. He started to pull away, looking embarrassed.

“No, no!” Ryndoril said, clutching the mer tighter so he couldn’t pull away. “It’s okay. I was glad you did.” To prove his point, he pulled Ondolemar’s head down toward him – the Altmer was a good bit taller than Ryndoril – and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. “I was hoping you’d do it again.”

“I don’t – I didn’t…I didn’t know,” Ondolemar muttered, still seeming embarrassed and refusing to look at Ryndoril now.

“Please don’t be upset,” Ryndoril said gently, desperately wanting the Altmer to enjoy the moment as much as he was. “I really am glad you did.”

“I just…I’ve never…I’ve never done this before,” Ondolemar explained awkwardly, hating how uncomfortable he felt – he didn’t like being thrown off like this. “Not…not with a-a male.” Ryndoril smiled understandingly.

“Really?” he asked. “Never?”

“No,” Ondolemar admitted. “I didn’t…it’s…”

“Do you prefer women?” Ryndoril asked, suddenly anxious and not wanting to push anything – though the fact that Ondolemar had twice initiated a kiss with him gave him hope.

“Not…not really,” Ondolemar said awkwardly. He stuttered a few more times before sighing and giving up, lowering his head so he was looking at the floor, though not letting go of where he held Ryndoril’s hips.

“It’s all right,” Ryndoril said, his voice gentle as he pressed his forehead to Ondolemar’s. “Relax. You want to sit down?”

“Perhaps,” Ondolemar nodded. Ryndoril reluctantly let him go, then walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge where Ondolemar joined him.

“Have you been with _anyone_ before?” Ryndoril asked curiously.

“Yes,” Ondolemar said, a little defensive. He wasn’t some inexperienced child, after all. “Several mer females. It was…pleasant enough.”

“You liked males more,” Ryndoril nodded.

“I did,” Ondolemar confessed, still feeling rather awkward but somehow peaceful in the Bosmer’s presence. “It’s just…well, it’s not exactly looked kindly upon by Altmer,” he explained. “Particularly finely-bred Altmer like myself. We are to mate, to produce offspring, to keep the purity of the species. To lie with another male…it’s…”

“Not creating more elves,” Ryndoril laughed softly. “All right. Fair enough. But did you really never find anyone else who was curious about it, at least?”

“I…well, honestly I’ve never been attracted to anyone like this,” Ondolemar mumbled. He was looking away from embarrassment and didn’t see the large grin on Ryndoril’s face.

“Well, I can’t say I’ve never lain with anyone else before,” Ryndoril said, reaching for Ondolemar’s hand. He felt positively giddy at the Altmer’s statement. “But I can say with certainty I’ve never been attracted to anyone like _this_ , either.” Ondolemar dared to look up at the Bosmer now, and saw nothing but sincerity in his face.

“Really?” Ondolemar murmured, half-ashamed at the hopeful tone in his voice. He was a finely-bred Altmer, for Auri-El’s sake – he didn’t need the validation of some other person! And yet, he fiercely wanted it to be true.

“Really,” Ryndoril smiled, squeezing Ondolemar’s fingers. “I’m sorry you don’t remember kissing me before, but rest assured that I enjoyed it. And this one was even better,” he added cheekily, “so your first memory of us kissing will be even better than mine.” Ondolemar couldn’t help but let out a short laugh at that.

“You’re so…comfortable, Ryn,” Ondolemar said, squeezing the Bosmer’s fingers in return. “I don’t know how you do it. You make me feel like I can tell you anything.” It was a little ridiculous just how comfortable Ondolemar felt around Ryndoril. He’d never talked to anyone this way before, even people he’d known for years. And yet with _him_ …

“You _can_ tell me anything,” Ryndoril grinned, ridiculously pleased. “I want you to tell me _everything_. I want to know everything about you.” Ondolemar blushed. “Maybe after some brandy,” Ryndoril added teasingly.

“Perhaps,” Ondolemar chuckled lightly. He got up and retrieved the bottle from his desk, bringing it back over to the bed. “I can’t imagine what it took to get your hands on this.”

“Deft hands, friendly Khajiit, and a hell of a lot of money,” Ryndoril laughed. “But…it was worth it.” Ondolemar looked pleased as he opened the bottle and took a drink. “Good?”

“Delicious,” Ondolemar sighed, closing his eyes in pleasure. Ryndoril took the opportunity to surprise him, leaning over to capture the Altmer’s lips again. Ondolemar froze in shock for a moment, but then quickly kissed Ryndoril back. There was obviously no point in holding himself back anymore, and frankly, he didn’t want to.

“Hmm, yes,” Ryndoril grinned as he pulled away. “You’re right. That _is_ delicious.” Ondolemar laughed, already feeling a little red in the face from the brandy and Ryndoril’s boldness.

“Here,” he said, handing the bottle to Ryndoril. “Have some properly. It really is amazing.” Ryndoril nodded, taking the bottle and taking a drink. Ondolemar watched him expectantly; he wasn’t sure why it seemed so important that the Bosmer enjoy the brandy as well, but he really hoped he did.

“Not bad,” the Bosmer admitted; he’d had it before, but it had been years. “But I still prefer it the other way.” He leaned over, still holding the brandy, and kissed Ondolemar again. This kiss lasted a little longer, Ryndoril flicking his tongue against Ondolemar’s lips. He could still taste the brandy on the other mer’s tongue, and it was far sweeter than what he’d had from the bottle.

“That method does have its merits,” Ondolemar agreed breathlessly when they eventually pulled apart. Ryndoril laughed, pressing the bottle back into Ondolemar’s hands.

“Listen,” Ryndoril said seriously. “I didn’t come here to push you into anything. I just wanted to see you…and give you this. It does sound like you need a break, but if you want me to, I _will_ go.”

“I don’t,” Ondolemar said at once. “I don’t want you to go. You are right that I need a break, and I’m sorry that I was rude.” He looked a little surprised at himself for saying such a thing, and Ryndoril smiled.

“It’s all right. I think I’m starting to get used to you,” he laughed. “Drink your brandy, and just relax a bit, all right?”

“I half expected you to leave again,” Ondolemar admitted as he took another drink. It really was too easy to talk to this mer, but he enjoyed it more than he could put into words.

“Nah,” Ryndoril said. “I only left before to go to my other house in Whiterun.”

“Whiterun?” Ondolemar asked.

“Yeah, I’m Thane there, too,” Ryndoril explained. “I actually wanted to bring most of my things here. So…I’m here to stay, for a little while.”

“Really?” Ondolemar asked, sounding hopeful.

“Yeah,” Ryndoril smiled fondly, glad it seemed to please him. “My housecarl, Lydia, helped me bring everything.”

“Lydia,” Ondolemar frowned, thinking. Then he remembered. “She was with you yesterday.”

“Yep, that was her,” Ryndoril nodded. “Took out a bunch of the Forsworn and helped me get you back here.”

“Do you have a housecarl here?” Ondolemar asked. Clearly, whoever it was hadn’t been around when he’d gone knocking.

“Apparently, I do,” Ryndoril laughed. “Surprised the hell out of me when I came strolling in with you yesterday. His name’s Argis.”

“His?” Ondolemar asked, and Ryndoril couldn’t miss the possessive tone in the Altmer’s voice. He had to admit it flattered him.

“Don’t worry, I think he and Lydia are into each other,” Ryndoril smiled. “And he’s a Nord.”

“Ugh,” Ondolemar sneered, unimpressed. 

“Ah, he’s not so bad,” Ryndoril said. “Seemed nice enough. Lydia’s pretty nice, too.”

“If you say so,” Ondolemar snorted, taking another drink of his brandy. “This is very good.”

“You’re welcome,” Ryndoril grinned, genuinely happy the Altmer enjoyed it. “So – I still want to know. What had you running off on your own yesterday?”

“Ah, that,” Ondolemar sighed. He moved onto the bed properly then, leaning back against the wall for the comfort. Ryndoril stayed on the side of the bed, but turned to face him. “The Ambassador surprised me with a visit early yesterday afternoon. She was…less than pleasant.”

“I haven’t heard many good things about her,” Ryndoril snickered. “What’d she do?”

“Criticized everything about the city,” Ondolemar said. “Which wouldn’t have been so bad, if she hadn’t blamed it all on me and insulted me on top of it.”

“Blamed what on you, exactly?” Ryndoril asked in confusion.

“That the Nords exist,” Ondolemar snorted. “That the sky is blue, that the stone is gray. That water makes noise.” Ryndoril chuckled.

“I see,” Ryndoril said. “She sounds pleasant.”

“You know, I quite like the ‘noise’ of the water,” Ondolemar said defensively, as though the Ambassador was still there. “It’s relaxing.”

“Yeah,” Ryndoril smiled in agreement. “That waterfall by the bridge just above the smith. It’s so – “

“That’s my favorite,” Ondolemar interrupted, surprised but unable to stop himself sharing that with the Bosmer. “I love standing on that bridge listening to the water. Preferably when no one else is around.”

“Agreed,” Ryndoril nodded, feeling pleased that they had something like that in common. “So she just came in and started ranting about everything, huh?”

“Yes,” Ondolemar frowned, taking another drink. “All but called me incompetent, and said I need to do a better job. She was clearly just in a bad mood, but it annoyed me anyway.”

“Understandable,” Ryndoril said. “I’m sorry she got to you so much, though. So you took the horse out to clear your head?”

“Yes,” Ondolemar said. “It was something I did back in the Isles often. It wasn’t quite the same – these plodding beasts could never approach the gallop of an Alinor-bred steed – but it’s still effective. I just should’ve been paying more attention.”

“Yeah, being more careful in the future couldn’t hurt,” Ryndoril agreed. “But I guess it helped clear your mind anyway,” he added wryly.

“Indeed,” Ondolemar said. “I would prefer it slightly less clear than ‘death’, though.”

“Me, too,” Ryndoril grinned, and he laid a hand on the Altmer’s lower leg. He meant what he said before – he didn’t want to push – but he wanted to touch him again. Just to feel the Altmer’s warmth under his fingers, to reassure him, to be closer. Ondolemar didn’t move away.

“So what made you decide to move your things here?” Ondolemar asked, the pleasant tingle from Ryndoril’s touch coursing through him.

“The alchemy lab,” Ryndoril said. “And maybe a handsome Altmer.” Ondolemar flushed, and Ryndoril grinned.

“Silly to base such a decision on the looks of another, even a superiorly-bred mer like myself,” Ondolemar smirked.

“Maybe,” Ryndoril nodded. “But I also happen to know this particular mer is a terribly good kisser.” Ondolemar blushed deeper.

“Is he now?” Ondolemar questioned, and though he knew the mer had never meant for it to show, Ryndoril could hear the sincere curiosity behind it.

“You know, now that you mention it,” Ryndoril said, pretending to contemplate, “I’m not sure.” Ondolemar’s face fell, but Ryndoril was quick to squeeze the mer’s leg reassuringly. “I think I need a little more information. If he’ll let me have it.” 

Ondolemar stared at him for a moment, and Ryndoril found his expression hard to read. It was somewhere between desire, anxiety, and disbelief. Ryndoril stayed quiet, letting the other mer gather his thoughts, and eventually he spoke again.

“Ryn,” Ondolemar murmured, and it felt as though he were staring straight into Ryndoril’s soul, “you can have all the information you like.” Ryndoril didn’t need any more of an invitation than that and practically threw himself at the Altmer, devouring his mouth in a passionate kiss.

Ondolemar kissed him back, their tongues fighting for dominance against each other as excitement swept through them both. Ryndoril pressed himself closer to Ondolemar; he was now straddling the other mer’s legs, and in his thin trousers, his excitement was becoming obvious. Ondolemar groaned as Ryndoril pressed himself purposefully against the Altmer’s leg, and brought his hands up to Ryndoril’s shoulders.

“This okay?” Ryndoril asked breathlessly, pulling away from Ondolemar’s lips; he was worried the elf was trying to push him away.

“Yes,” Ondolemar gasped, pulling Ryndoril toward him again, desperation in his voice. “Yes… _please_ …” Ryndoril let out a soft chuckle and pressed his lips to Ondolemar’s again, gently this time, taking his time and savoring the feel of the Altmer’s soft lips on his own.

The two elves exchanged soft kisses for several moments, tasting one another, each almost cautious. It was as though they both feared waking up to find this was all a dream if they pushed too much.

Ondolemar was the first to move this time, pushing Ryndoril just a little so he could set the brandy bottle on his night table. It was nearly gone, and Ondolemar was sure that was responsible for the lack of anxiety he felt. That and Ryndoril himself; the Bosmer put him at ease in a way no other person had ever done.

Once the bottle was set aside, Ondolemar raised his eyes to Ryndoril’s. The Bosmer looked excited yet uncertain.

“You sure you want to do this?” Ryndoril asked softly, his eyes hungry. He badly wanted Ondolemar now, but he wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize their fragile friendship; he liked the Altmer far too much to risk that. To his surprise, Ondolemar gave him a genuine, if small, smile.

“Yes, I am,” Ondolemar said firmly, wanting to leave no doubt in Ryndoril’s mind that he wanted this just as much as the wood elf. Ryndoril’s grin lit up his face at that, and Ondolemar pulled the Bosmer into his arms, kissing him hard. The two fell with Ryndoril’s momentum until they were lying side by side, wrapped up in one another as their lips met. 

Ryndoril brought his free hand up the Altmer’s side, stroking his arm all the way up until he cupped Ondolemar’s face. He deepened the kiss, much to Ondolemar’s pleasure, before letting his hand drift back and tuck the Altmer’s hair behind his ear. That accomplished, Ryndoril gently touched his fingers along the high elven ear; so different from his own, yet somehow similar. It was fascinating to simply _feel_ it, and Ondolemar’s shudder beside him told him the elf didn’t mind his exploration at all.

Ondolemar moved his kisses away from Ryndoril’s lips and across his stubble-coated jaw instead, eventually bringing them up to the Bosmer’s ear. He flicked his tongue softly against the edge of the pointed ear.

“Oh _gods_ ,” Ryndoril moaned, jerking slightly in Ondolemar’s embrace. Ondolemar smiled; it was downright _fun_ to affect someone this way. Ryndoril pinched the tip of Ondolemar’s ear, causing the mer to cry out. The Bosmer laughed, stroking the ear gently again as Ondolemar began to nibble on his own. “You know, if you don’t stop that, I’m not going to be good for much of anything,” Ryndoril said, his voice breathless with desire. Not that he wanted him to stop – not really.

“Sorry,” Ondolemar whispered gently in Ryndoril’s ear, drawing out the “s” into a low hiss. Ryndoril moaned loudly as a tingle ran through his body from the sound.

“Ondolemar,” Ryndoril breathed, his eyes closed as he tightened his fingers in the Altmer’s hair.

“Yes?” Ondolemar asked with a smirk, pulling back just far enough to see Ryndoril’s face. 

“You’re a tease,” Ryndoril laughed quietly, opening his eyes and staring into Ondolemar’s green ones. The Altmer’s eyes were filled with desire, matching what Ryndoril felt.

“Is that such a terrible thing?” Ondolemar asked smugly. Ryndoril laughed.

“Just don’t give it out if you can’t take it,” Ryndoril replied cheekily. 

“Is that a challenge?” Ondolemar said, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you want it to be?” Ryndoril shot back. Suddenly Ondolemar flushed again, looking unsure.

“I – well…maybe,” he mumbled, casting his eyes away from Ryndoril. Ryndoril brought his hands to the Altmer’s cheeks, cupping his face and moving it to look at him.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Ryndoril murmured seriously, eyes darting all over Ondolemar’s perfectly chiseled face. “Relax, Ondolemar. It’s only me…and I’m not judging you. No matter what happens tonight.” Ondolemar studied the wood elf’s face for a moment before replying.

“I know,” Ondolemar finally said softly. “It’s just…difficult.” Ryndoril smiled at him, kissing the elf gently.

“Yeah,” he agreed kindly. “But it’s all right.” He moved one hand back, letting his fingers slide through Ondolemar’s hair. The high elf closed his eyes, relaxing into Ryndoril’s touch, and Ryndoril smiled as he kissed Ondolemar again on the lips before moving down his chin to his neck. The Altmer made a noise of pleased surprise when he felt Ryndoril’s tongue gently flicking his throat, tilting his head back to allow better access. 

Ryndoril continued pressing soft kisses along the soft skin of Ondolemar’s neck, alternating with an occasional flick of his tongue, while he undid the ties on the neckline of the mer’s tunic. He felt Ondolemar’s hands grasping at his back as he pressed his lips to the newly bared skin, the Altmer’s chest rising and falling rapidly as his desire increased.

“Ryn,” Ondolemar whimpered as the Bosmer bit his collarbone gently. Ryndoril grinned, bringing his lips back up Ondolemar’s neck to his mouth. The wood elf kissed him deeply, Ondolemar matching his passion as the Altmer’s hands slid underneath the other elf’s tunic, dragging it up. Ryndoril pulled away just long enough to tug the tunic off entirely before returning to fervently kissing Ondolemar.

Ryndoril felt Ondolemar’s hands trailing up his back as the mer’s arms went around him; he was too focused on trying to get Ondolemar’s tunic off to pay a lot of attention. He felt almost desperate to feel the other elf’s bare skin against his own, and finally Ondolemar cooperated enough that the tunic was pulled off and flung to the floor. Between intense kisses, getting more heated by the second, Ryndoril pressed himself against Ondolemar, clinging to him.

Both elves sighed in pleased relief at the contact. Ondolemar pulled away from Ryndoril’s lips to place kisses against the corner of his mouth, his chin, and down his neck; the Bosmer tilted his head back to let the other elf have better access. Propping himself up on his elbows while leaning over Ondolemar, Ryndoril brought one hand up to the Altmer’s pointed ear, stroking it again. He felt Ondolemar shudder, then the other mer bit his neck lightly in response. Ryndoril groaned.

“Ryn,” Ondolemar breathed, pulling back, and Ryndoril looked down at him curiously. He looked slightly hesitant, and then a small smile formed on his lips. “Hurry up.” Ryndoril laughed, rubbing Ondolemar’s ear and leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“Yes, sir,” Ryndoril grinned, pulling his hand away from the Altmer’s ear and trailing his fingers down the smooth, golden shoulder, across his chest, and down to where his trousers were fastened. He quickly undid the ties, and Ondolemar raised his hips so Ryndoril could pull them down. For the sake of simplicity, Ryndoril removed his own trousers as well, tossing them both aside as he lay down next to Ondolemar once more. He smiled as the other mer turned to him, looking a little awkward again. “Hi,” Ryndoril said sweetly, bringing his hand up to brush Ondolemar’s hair back. Ondolemar gave him a half-smile.

“Hi,” Ondolemar replied.

“What’s the matter?” Ryndoril asked, cocking his head. Ondolemar didn’t answer, casting his eyes aside instead. “You’re feeling anxious again, aren’t you?”

“A bit,” Ondolemar finally admitted. Ryndoril smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Don’t be,” Ryndoril said. “It’s all right.” To prove his point, he slid his hand over Ondolemar’s chest, pressing his lips to the Altmer’s and kissing him deeply. Ondolemar responded enthusiastically, kissing back fiercely and running his free hand down Ryndoril’s side. Ryndoril shivered at the Altmer’s long-fingered touch, enjoying it immensely.

Ondolemar jumped slightly when Ryndoril let a finger drift over his nipple; noticing the sensitivity, Ryndoril rubbed his fingers over it more firmly, eliciting a gasp from the mer. Ryndoril brought his head down to flick his tongue against the sensitive spot, feeling it harden a little under his tongue. Ondolemar’s fingers tangled in his hair, encouraging him. Ryndoril’s free hand drifted over to the mer’s other nipple, pinching it lightly and causing a soft groan of pleasure.

The Bosmer could feel himself pressing against Ondolemar’s thigh, hard as he was, and felt a strong need to touch the Altmer; his hand drifted downward while he continued to pepper kisses over Ondolemar’s chest, his fingers finally brushing Ondolemar’s length.

“Yes,” Ondolemar hissed, pushing his hips up into Ryndoril’s grasp as his fingers tightened in the Bosmer’s hair. Ryndoril smiled and gripped him more firmly, stroking him gently and looking up into the Altmer’s face. Ondolemar had closed his eyes in bliss, and his face looked more peaceful than Ryndoril had ever seen it. He felt his heart give a particularly hard thud in his chest at the sight; the mer was beautiful, and to know that he was the one pleasing him so much thrilled the wood elf.

Ryndoril sat up on his knees once more, giving himself a better angle to grip Ondolemar. The high elf’s eyes opened and looked up at him hungrily, and Ryndoril moved over so he was straddling the Altmer. He removed his hand, leaning over to kiss Ondolemar softly and placing his hands on either side of the mer’s head. Their cocks brushed together, and Ryndoril couldn’t help thrusting gently against Ondolemar, increasing the sensation.

“Ryn,” Ondolemar breathed, his hands pulling the Bosmer’s head closer to him for another kiss.

“Yes,” Ryndoril replied, breathless with sensation; feeling all his bare skin up against the Altmer was driving him mad. He wanted to draw this out, just a little; it was Ondolemar’s first time with another male, and he wanted to make it worthwhile. But damn if his body wasn’t demanding he just get on with it.

“Ryn, please,” Ondolemar went on, his hips pushing up into Ryndoril. The Bosmer whimpered with pleasure at the feeling, and reached between them to grasp both their cocks in one hand, stroking them together. “Oh gods,” Ondolemar groaned, writhing a little under Ryndoril. 

“That’s it,” Ryndoril choked out, hardly able to breathe at the sight of the beautiful Altmer beneath him, feeling him against his own most sensitive area. Ondolemar was longer than he was, though Ryndoril was thicker; it was a strange sensation to be holding the differently-sized lengths in his hand like this, but it was somehow even more pleasurable for it.

“Ryn, stop,” Ondolemar whimpered, opening his eyes pleadingly at the Bosmer. Ryndoril stopped at once, thoroughly afraid he’d gone too far.

“What’s the matter?” Ryndoril asked, not yet letting go of them. “Is this all right?”

“Too – too much,” Ondolemar said shakily, a small smile on his lips. “I’ll never last that way.” He was a little ashamed to admit it; it made him sound like some young, inexperienced virgin. But by the gods, the way this elf made him _feel_! He’d never wanted anyone so much in his life, and feeling himself pressed against Ryndoril’s cock was going to make him come undone in a moment. Ryndoril simply smiled in understanding.

“Sorry,” Ryndoril said, releasing the cocks in his hand and moving away just enough that he wasn’t brushing against Ondolemar anymore. “So – how do you want this, then?” Ondolemar looked at him in confusion. “Would you like to take charge, or do you want me to take you?”

“Yes,” Ondolemar blurted out at once, cheeks reddening though he looked determined. “That…that last one.” Ryndoril laughed softly, brushing a hand over Ondolemar’s thigh.

“All right,” Ryndoril nodded. “Have you ever had any experience with that…ah…particular area before?”

“A little,” Ondolemar said, desire clearly outweighing his self-consciousness. “Just…alone.”

“Good,” Ryndoril smiled. At least he wasn’t completely unaccustomed to it. Ryndoril squeezed his thigh gently and got off the bed, going over to the small pack he’d left on the floor. He was glad he hadn’t thought to remove it before coming, as it had a little bottle of lubricating oil inside. Retrieving it, he settled himself back on the bed with Ondolemar, between the Altmer’s legs this time.

“What’s that?” Ondolemar asked, curious.

“Oil,” Ryndoril explained. “For lubrication.” Ondolemar made a sound of recognition; clearly he’d used something like it in the past.

Ryndoril tipped the bottle into his hand, coating his fingers liberally in the oil. He put the cork back in the bottle, setting it aside, and smiled down at Ondolemar, laying a gentle hand on his thigh as he pushed the Altmer’s legs further apart. Ondolemar was nearly trembling in anticipation, and jumped when Ryndoril’s slickened fingers slid up his inner thigh. Ryndoril kept his gaze locked on the Altmer’s face as he gently caressed his balls, slowly trailing his hand back. Ondolemar’s cock twitched, hardening further and clearly impatient for Ryndoril’s touch. The Bosmer wanted very much to taste him, but if the mer was already that close…he knew better than to push it.

Ryndoril finally let his hand drift back to the sensitive, puckered hole, rubbing gently over it.

“Auri-El,” Ondolemar breathed out harshly, his face tensing up along with the rest of his body.

“Easy,” Ryndoril whispered, continuing his gentle ministrations. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I…I know,” Ondolemar said quietly, his eyes opening as he managed to relax a little. Ryndoril gave him a soft smile.

“Just relax,” he murmured, his free hand coming up to stroke Ondolemar’s length once more, still relentlessly rubbing over the sensitive hole. “That’s it,” he whispered as the mer started to relax. He started to push a little bit harder, and Ondolemar immediately tensed up again. Ryndoril laughed quietly. “You’ve got to calm down,” Ryndoril said kindly. “You’re all right.” He patiently continued his ministrations, removing his hand from Ondolemar’s cock and placing it instead on his abdomen, gently stroking the skin there.

Ondolemar finally sighed, and it seemed he let out some anxiety with the breath as he began to relax again.

“There you go,” Ryndoril encouraged softly, stroking down across his hip as one finger began to push slightly on the tight hole. A moment later it had slipped in, and Ondolemar’s eyes snapped open, his chest heaving with deep breaths. “Doing all right?”

“Y—yes,” Ondolemar managed. He’d touched himself like this before, but having someone else doing it was a wholly different experience. It stung a little; Ryndoril’s finger was differently-shaped than his own. More than that, though, it felt _good_ – indescribably good. “Please, Ryn.”

“More?” Ryndoril asked. Ondolemar nodded anxiously. Ryndoril pushed his finger further inside the other mer, keeping his pace slow and gentle.

“Ohhhh…” Ondolemar moaned, his fingers gripping the bed linens. Ryndoril reached his free hand for one of Ondolemar’s, gripping it firmly and letting the Altmer squeeze his hand. Once Ryndoril’s finger was buried entirely inside the mer, he stopped, giving him a moment to get used to it. “Oh, Ryn…”

“Like it?” Ryndoril asked eagerly.

“Yes – oh!” Ondolemar shouted as Ryndoril brushed against the slightly rough bit of tissue inside of him. “Yes…”

Ryndoril slowly started to pull his finger back out of the elf, pushing it back in again a little harder. Ondolemar jumped, squeezing Ryndoril’s fingers tightly as he tensed up.

“Sorry,” Ryndoril murmured. “Too hard?” 

“Just…just not used to it,” Ondolemar murmured, trying to calm his heaving breaths. It had hurt a little that time, though it still felt amazingly good. “Just…give me a moment.”

“Of course,” Ryndoril said, squeezing Ondolemar’s fingers. He kept his hand still while inside the mer, letting him adjust, and as he felt Ondolemar start to relax, he wiggled his finger slightly. The Altmer jumped, breathing out a laugh a moment later. Ryndoril smiled at him. “Good?”

“Yes,” Ondolemar said. “S-sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Ryndoril said firmly, gently sliding his finger almost out of the mer again. “I want you to tell me if something’s the matter.”

“It isn’t,” Ondolemar breathed, his hand still clutching Ryndoril’s. “I – I want this.” He was feeling shaky and a bit uncertain, but the pleasure was quickly overriding everything. The knowledge that it was sweet Ryndoril’s finger pressing inside of him made it all the more pleasing. He felt every stroke as Ryndoril slowly started to slide in and out of him, brushing up against the sensitive tissue with each pass.

When Ryndoril’s finger was moving with little resistance, he slowed down again and added a second finger next to the first one; he pressed into Ondolemar slowly again, making the mer groan.

“Still all right?” Ryndoril checked, not wanting to hurt him again.

“Yes,” Ondolemar said, a low moan in his voice that made Ryndoril desperate to be inside of him. “Yes…please, more, Ryn…” Ryndoril grinned at that, pulling both fingers out and pushing them in again, stretching the Altmer and touching him just the right way.

Ondolemar was enjoying himself immensely now, all semblance of pain gone; Ryndoril’s nimble fingers knew just what they were doing, and it had relaxed the Altmer enough to make him slightly impatient. 

“Ryn,” he said harshly, his eyes boring into the Bosmer. Ryndoril looked up at him, his brown eyes dark and full of passion. “More,” he begged. Ryndoril laughed.

“Once you get going, you’re quick, aren’t you?” Ryndoril teased, letting go of the Altmer’s hand and gripping his cock. He picked up the pace with his fingers a little; at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he could press himself into the Altmer, and he shuddered with anticipation at the thought.

“Yesssss,” Ondolemar hissed, head tilting back and eyes closing at Ryndoril’s combined touch. “Gods, yes.”

It really was amazing, Ryndoril thought, causing this much pleasure for the other mer. He wanted to touch his ears again, just to see what he’d do, but his hands were quite occupied. Ondolemar looked so gorgeous, spread-eagled before him and flushed with desire, his golden hair surrounding his head on the pillows and his cock standing up proudly as Ryndoril stroked it. He was so lucky to have this opportunity.

Ryndoril slowed down both his hands, pulling his two fingers out of the Altmer and resting his hands on Ondolemar’s thighs. He looked heatedly up at the mer, who was staring just as heatedly back. Ryndoril smiled before reaching for the bottle of oil again. 

“Prop yourself up with that pillow,” Ryndoril suggested, nodding to the spare pillow at the head of the bed. “It’ll make it easier.”

“All right,” Ondolemar nodded, reaching for it and doing as Ryndoril said. He felt a little awkward propped up like this, but Ryndoril had more experience than him, so he trusted the Bosmer’s judgment.

“Ondolemar,” Ryndoril said hesitantly after he set the bottle aside once more, “are you… _sure_ you’re all right with this?” He didn’t want to stop, he was barely sure he _could_ stop, but he was suddenly all too aware that this was going to be the Altmer’s first experience with this, and he was very afraid of pushing the mer too far.

“Ryndoril, if you don’t finish what you’ve started, I’m going to throw you in the river,” Ondolemar said impatiently. He was quite ready for this, and he wanted it more than he could say; the brandy had allowed him to let himself enjoy it up to this point, and now brandy or not, he needed Ryndoril. The Bosmer laughed softly at his impatience.

“All right,” he nodded, fairly reassured that this was truly what the mer wanted. He settled himself between Ondolemar’s legs, pushing them apart and rubbing his fingers gently across the still-tight hole again before pressing himself against it. 

He was shaking slightly with the anticipation; he wanted to do this to Ondolemar so badly, he’d thought of it so many times in the weeks since they’d met, and now – _now_ – it was happening. He slid his oiled cock over the opening gently, making Ondolemar thrust up to meet him. He smiled, using one hand to hold the Altmer still as the other guided his length right to the mer’s opening.

“Relax,” Ryndoril whispered, pressing firmly until he felt Ondolemar’s tight muscles start to give. The high elf gasped, his long fingers clutching the bed linens again as Ryndoril felt himself start to slide inside.

“Ryn,” Ondolemar whimpered, his eyes on the Bosmer’s. Ryndoril was a little concerned at the pain he saw in them, but it was clear the elf wanted him to keep going.

“Just relax,” Ryndoril soothed, bringing his free hand up to stroke Ondolemar’s swollen cock. He patiently pressed forward, going ever so slowly. “Take it easy.”

“Oh gods,” Ondolemar breathed, closing his eyes at Ryndoril’s touch. It was a strange feeling, having the Bosmer enter him; it was so similar to feeling his own fingers, or even Ryndoril’s, but at the same time it was quite different. It burned a little as he felt himself stretch further than Ryndoril’s fingers had achieved, but the elf’s unending patience and gentleness made it bearable.

Once Ryndoril was far enough inside of him to stop guiding his cock, he took the now-free hand and reached for Ondolemar’s, clasping the other elf’s fingers in his own. Ondolemar squeezed tightly, clearly still tense, and Ryndoril smiled gently down at him.

“Ondolemar, look at me,” he murmured, making the elf open his eyes again. They looked desperate but anxious. “Calm down,” he soothed, keeping the elf’s hand gripped in his as he stroked his cock slowly but consistently. “Stop focusing so hard. Just relax.” 

Ondolemar took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to do as the Bosmer said. He realized the pain lessened when he did that, his tight muscle relaxing around Ryndoril. He still felt it, but it was starting to feel much more pleasant than painful. He started to feel full; pleasantly filled, content even. The Bosmer was quite large – the cock felt a lot bigger inside of him than it had looked to be, but he supposed it made sense with the tightness of the muscle down there. Ryndoril’s soothing, slightly-calloused hand continued stroking him patiently, a rough thumb brushing over the head of his own length every other stroke. Finally, with a deep groan, he managed to relax more fully. 

“That’s it,” Ryndoril smiled, his whisper rough with desire. It had been a long time, several months at least, since he’d done this, and the knowledge that it was _Ondolemar_ surrounding his cock so tightly was exhilarating.

Ondolemar was occupied with giving himself over to the pleasure he was feeling, and it was a surprise when he felt Ryndoril brush against the hard bunch of tissue inside him. He twitched, clenching his fingers around Ryndoril’s, and the Bosmer grinned down at him.

“Doing all right?” Ryndoril asked. Ondolemar found it quite touching that the elf was so intent on making sure he was still enjoying himself.

“Yes,” Ondolemar breathed. “Fuck, Ryn…” Ryndoril laughed; he’d never heard the Altmer use crude language like that before, but he couldn’t deny what it did to him. That _he_ was the one making this mer feel that good…

“Gods, Ondolemar,” Ryndoril breathed as he finally sheathed himself fully inside the high elf. The tightness around him was electrifying; perhaps he’d forgotten just how good it felt, or maybe it was simply because it was Ondolemar. He stroked the mer once more before removing his hand, leaning over him and kissing him. Ondolemar groaned into his mouth, making him tingle.

“Is that…are you all the way…?” Ondolemar asked, breathless and almost frantic.

“Yes,” Ryndoril murmured, pressing gentle kisses to the corner of Ondolemar’s mouth and down his chin. “I’m all the way inside you, love.”

“L-love?” Ondolemar asked, a surge of happiness flooding him at the small nickname.

“Mmhmm,” Ryndoril hummed, kissing along Ondolemar’s chin and back to his ear now, brushing a few hairs out of the way. “Is that all right?” he whispered softly in the mer’s sensitive ear. Ondolemar trembled beneath him.

“Yes,” Ondolemar whispered back, his voice a little strangled. Ryndoril smiled against his ear, placing a gentle kiss on the edge of it before flicking his tongue up to the tip. “Oh, _gods_!” Ondolemar involuntarily bucked up against Ryndoril, and the Bosmer could feel the other elf’s cock pressing insistently into his stomach. 

“Easy,” Ryndoril smiled, pulling back just enough to see Ondolemar’s face. “Taking it slow the first time.”

“Dammit, I want you,” Ondolemar panted, his voice rough and needy. Ryndoril gently stroked the Altmer’s golden hair back from his forehead.

“And I’m right here,” Ryndoril said with a soft smile. He started to pull back out of the Altmer, at which point Ondolemar moaned loudly. “Your guards are going to hear you.”

“I can’t help it,” Ondolemar whimpered pitifully. “I – divines, Ryn…”

“I know,” Ryndoril murmured, kissing him gently again as he continued to slowly move back. He knew what an intense feeling it was to have someone inside of you like that, and truthfully it wasn’t much less intense for him now. It had never been like this, not with anyone else; he cared about this elf in a way that he’d never experienced before, and it was nearly overwhelming. 

Ryndoril had pulled himself almost entirely out of the mer now, and so slowly started pushing back in.

“ _Ryn_!” Ondolemar cried, his hands coming up to clutch at the Bosmer’s shoulders. Ryndoril smiled and kissed his lips again, his tongue brushing against them as the other elf moaned. “Gods…please…”

“You’re so impatient,” Ryndoril teased, kissing the tip of the elf’s nose before pulling back and sitting up on his knees. He took hold of Ondolemar’s hands, their fingers intertwined, and used them as leverage as he pressed himself into the other mer. It was taking a lot of his self-control to hold back and go so slowly, but the thought of hurting Ondolemar kept him in check.

“Ryn, _fuck_ ,” Ondolemar panted, his fingers gripping Ryndoril’s so hard his knuckles were white. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore; the Bosmer was going so damn slow, and he _needed_ him, he needed him so badly! He thrust his hips up, forcing himself further onto Ryndoril’s cock, before gasping with the sudden pain it caused.

“Relax,” Ryndoril murmured, though his voice was shaky. He knew what Ondolemar wanted, and feeling the mer impaling himself on him had made his legs quake, but it had to have hurt the Altmer. “You all right?” He kept still, not moving at all, unwilling to until he confirmed that Ondolemar was all right. The mer’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his fingers were grasping Ryn’s for all they were worth.

“Yes,” Ondolemar choked out, clearly overwhelmed. “Just – that was – “

“Too much,” Ryndoril nodded, squeezing his fingers gently. “I told you I was going slow. Just relax again, love, you’re all right.” He managed to wrench one hand away from Ondolemar’s death grip, running his fingers soothingly over the mer’s abdomen. He noticed Ondolemar had softened a little.

“I didn’t mean to…” Ondolemar whispered, trying to calm down. He hadn’t expected the pain to hit so hard, but it was biting.

“I know,” Ryndoril soothed, bringing his free hand to the Altmer’s cock and stroking it gently. “You’ll get used to it, but for now you have to be patient.” He felt Ondolemar shudder slightly as he stroked him.

“Is it always like this?” Ondolemar asked, finally opening his eyes as his breathing returned to normal; the pain was lessening. “So slow?”

“No,” Ryndoril smiled gently, reassuringly squeezing the mer’s fingers. “With time you get used to it. I promise.” He kept still for a few moments longer, feeling the mer relaxing again as he stroked his cock. “All right now?” he finally asked.

“Y-yes,” Ondolemar breathed.

“Trust me this time,” Ryndoril teased, starting to push further into him again. The Altmer winced slightly, but Ryn pressed on, and Ondolemar quickly was back to enjoying the sensation. Ryndoril reached for the bottle of oil, tipping the rest of it onto his cock as he slid back out of Ondolemar to ensure the mer wouldn’t be hurt again.

“Oh, gods, Ryn, yes,” Ondolemar groaned as Ryndoril slid back inside him more easily, the oil making the feeling smoother. Ryndoril smiled, starting to stroke the other mer a little more firmly as he continued using their clasped hands as leverage. Ondolemar’s face was the picture of bliss now, and with his relaxed state, Ryndoril started thrusting a little faster.

Ondolemar wasn’t sure he hadn’t lost his mind entirely; the feeling of Ryndoril sliding almost entirely out of him before pressing back in again, increasing in pace and brushing the sensitive tissue inside him with each thrust; the adventure-worn hand on his cock, stroking him relentlessly; even the feeling of the Bosmer’s fingers clutched in his own. Auri-El, he was a fool to have never done this before…though, he realized, it was likely the Bosmer himself that made it so very pleasurable.

The Altmer realized he was babbling absurdly; he couldn’t seem to control himself as he all but begged Ryndoril to keep up what he was doing. It wasn’t very long before it was all feeling so unbelievably good he wasn’t going to be able to take it much longer.

“Ryn, please, harder,” Ondolemar pleaded, using his free hand to reach up and pull the Bosmer into him more quickly.

“Ondolemar,” Ryndoril panted warningly, though he quite liked the Altmer’s actions, “don’t…push…”

“I don’t care,” Ondolemar breathed harshly, staring into Ryndoril’s eyes. “I need you, Ryn…fuck!” he cried out when the Bosmer gave up and started thrusting as requested. “Yes!”

“Better?” Ryndoril asked, his voice strangled as he tried desperately to control himself. He couldn’t come, not yet, not before Ondolemar. He needed to feel the mer’s tight muscles squeezing around him, he had to…

“Yes, yes…oh, Auri-El, yes…” Ondolemar groaned, his free hand drifting to his own cock though Ryndoril was still stroking it.

“That’s it, love,” Ryndoril encouraged, wrapping his hand around Ondolemar’s over the Altmer’s cock. “Show me what you like.”

“Fuck!” Ondolemar cried out, the words spurring him on as he stroked himself, Ryndoril’s strong hand with him as the Bosmer practically slammed into him. He was stretched so far, and he was so damn full, and it felt better than anything he could have ever imagined, and then suddenly he was coming, an incoherent string of words streaming from his lips as he screamed in pleasure. 

“That’s right,” Ryndoril moaned, clutching at Ondolemar’s fingers, the spasms around his own cock pulling his release from him. He thrust hard into Ondolemar, the Altmer crying out, and spilled himself inside the mer with a hoarse cry of his own. His hand on Ondolemar’s cock went limp, and the Altmer was quick to grasp it with his own, squeezing it gently.

Ondolemar had never seen anything more beautiful than the sight of Ryndoril losing himself to pleasure as the Bosmer found his release moments after the high elf. The Altmer kept both of Ryndoril’s hands in his own, unwilling to let go for anything as the Bosmer finally started to come down, his breathing as ragged as Ondolemar’s.

“Divines,” Ryndoril breathed, his eyes looking drowsily down at Ondolemar. Once he could focus properly, he caught sight of the look on Ondolemar’s face; the Altmer looked utterly bewildered, and Ryndoril let out a short laugh. “You all right, love?”

“Yes,” Ondolemar answered, seeming in a daze. “Auri-El, Ryn…” Ryndoril smiled at him, leaning over and kissing him gently. He was pleased when the Altmer kissed back, their tongues brushing together. He pulled back, tugging his hand out of Ondolemar’s grip and bringing it up to caress the high elf’s face.

“Good?” he asked softly, trying to calm his breathing; it had been so much more intense for him than ever before.

“Amazing,” Ondolemar confessed, bringing his own hand up to Ryndoril’s hair and stroking gently through it. “Ryn…I…” He was feeling somewhat emotional, which he hadn’t expected; he’d never gotten that way over sex before. But for some reason, having the other mer inside him like that, feeling him spill inside of him…it was indescribable. Ryndoril seemed to understand, because the Bosmer smiled at him, brushing a thumb across his lips.

“I know, love,” Ryndoril murmured, kissing him softly. He rose to his knees this time, placing his hands on Ondolemar’s legs and pulling himself out of the mer. He wasn’t completely soft yet, and Ondolemar winced a little, gentle though he was being. Ryndoril stroked his thigh comfortingly and finally was entirely out, though he did notice a tiny bit of blood. He knew it had been too rough at the end, but neither of them could help themselves.

“What’s wrong?” Ondolemar asked, clearly seeing the concern on Ryndoril’s face. Ryndoril smiled at him, squeezing his thigh gently.

“Looks like I was a bit too rough, is all,” Ryndoril said. “Don’t worry.” He got off the bed, taking a second to stabilize his shaky legs, and walked over to his small pack.

“Ryn?” Ondolemar asked, insecurity in his voice. Ryndoril turned to him. “Where…are you…are you leaving?” Ryndoril grinned back at him.

“Of course I’m not leaving,” Ryndoril said, shaking his head. “Crazy elf. Just hang on a second.” He fumbled in the pack until he found a small healing potion, tossing the rest back to the floor and heading back over to the bed. “Here,” he said, handing the bottle to Ondolemar. “Healing potion.”

“Healing potion?” Ondolemar asked, a bit startled. “But – “

“It’s all right,” Ryndoril said, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “Nothing to worry about. It was your first time, and it got a bit rough. This is just so you don’t hurt.”

“You…you’re sure?” Ondolemar asked. Ryndoril brushed his fingers over Ondolemar’s arm.

“Just take it,” he grinned. “Trust me, will you?” Ondolemar did as he was told, downing the potion in a single gulp, and Ryndoril set the empty bottle on the nightstand. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes,” Ondolemar said, his hand reaching for Ryndoril’s. The Bosmer took it with a smile, realizing the elf was obviously feeling a little clingy. “You…you’re sure you’re not going anywhere?” Ryndoril laughed and leaned over, kissing Ondolemar deeply.

“Not a chance,” Ryndoril reassured him, squeezing his hand. “I’m here as long as you want me to be.”

“You’ll stay the night with me?” Ondolemar asked, already looking quite sleepy.

“Of course I will,” Ryndoril said, the idea making him feel warm and content. It had been awfully nice to wake up with the Altmer in his arms that morning, even if Ondolemar had been bewildered by it. He wouldn’t pass up a chance to do it again, particularly not after that. 

Ryndoril grabbed his tunic off the floor to clean Ondolemar up a bit, gently wiping the Altmer’s seed from him before tossing it to the ground. He would wash it later, and just now he didn’t much care about it being dirtied this way.

“You probably need to move,” Ryndoril said teasingly, tugging at the blankets beneath the mer. Ondolemar chuckled softly, helping the Bosmer get the blankets over the top of him.

“Join me,” Ondolemar requested, desperate to have the Bosmer next to him. He’d never felt this way after sex before, but he desperately needed to be close to Ryndoril. He needed the affection, and the wood elf seemed only too happy to provide it.

“Impatient,” Ryndoril teased again, getting under the blankets. “Do you always fall asleep so quickly?”

“Yes,” Ondolemar murmured, barely able to keep his eyes open. Even without another – just by himself – he always fell asleep almost immediately. With the intensity of what had just happened, the need for sleep was even stronger than usual. As Ryndoril wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, Ondolemar’s head rested on the Bosmer’s shoulder and he felt completely at peace for the first time in Divines knew how long. This, he thought, was perfect.

Ryndoril held Ondolemar until the other mer was asleep – not that it took very long. He couldn’t stop stroking his fingers through the Altmer’s golden hair, his heart ready to burst at the simple feeling of Ondolemar resting on his shoulder. 

He hadn’t actually meant to call Ondolemar ‘love’ earlier; it wasn’t a nickname he’d ever used with anyone else, but it had simply slipped out. The mer hadn’t seemed too upset about it, though, so he decided to go with it.

In any case, it was a descriptive nickname, Ryndoril thought wryly. He wondered if perhaps he fell too easily. 

With Ondolemar…he couldn’t really care.

*****

When Ondolemar awoke the following morning, he was temporarily surprised to be holding so tightly onto Ryndoril. The night before came rushing back to him, and he flushed deeply, but squeezed the Bosmer a little tighter. He realized they must have switched positions at some point; he had fallen asleep on Ryndoril’s shoulder, and now he had the little elf gathered fully into his own arms.

He wasn’t going to complain either way.

The night before had undeniably been the best night of his life. He’d never experienced anything so intense or intimate, and he had definitely never been quite so happy before. He was feeling amazingly tender toward the elf in his arms. He turned his head slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to the Bosmer’s forehead, making him stir.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ondolemar whispered worriedly when Ryndoril’s eyes blinked open. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Ryndoril looked confused for a moment as well before realizing where he was, and then he simply grinned at the Altmer.

“That’s all right,” he murmured, snuggling into Ondolemar’s grasp. Ondolemar’s heart gave a funny thud. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Ondolemar replied.

“How do you feel this morning?” Ryndoril asked. “Sore?” Ondolemar considered the question.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not terribly so.”

“Good,” Ryndoril smiled, running his hand over the mer’s strong chest. “Enough to make you remember me, at least,” he added cheekily, and Ondolemar snorted, reddening slightly.

“You don’t need to be so crude,” Ondolemar said disdainfully, though he was amused.

“ _I’m_ crude?” Ryndoril laughed, pushing back to look at him. “I wasn’t the one begging to be fucked harder last night, if I remember right…” Ondolemar’s blush deepened. Ryndoril leaned in to kiss him gently. “Don’t worry. I enjoyed it.” Ondolemar simply shook his head, hardly able to believe the nerve of this elf.

“I do believe I need to get up,” Ondolemar said. “I was in the middle of something very important when I was distracted last night.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryndoril teased. “If you cared that much, you wouldn’t have let me distract you.” Ondolemar couldn’t argue with that; the evening had been a thousand times more pleasant than continuing to torture himself with paperwork.

“It still needs to get done,” Ondolemar said. Ryndoril gave him an understanding smile, sitting up and stretching.

“All right,” he said. “But don’t work yourself to death.”

“Will you come back?” Ondolemar asked anxiously as Ryndoril started to get out of the bed. He felt a shiver run through him at the elf’s very naked form. Ryndoril grinned.

“You couldn’t keep me away if you tried,” Ryndoril said, his voice more tender than usual. Ondolemar smiled in return, getting out of bed himself.

“Ouch,” he winced, realizing he was a little more sore than he thought. Ryndoril smiled sympathetically at him this time.

“It’s not like that forever,” Ryndoril said, handing the other mer his trousers. “And it’ll wear off.”

“I…I don’t mind, really,” Ondolemar admitted. Cheeky or not, the Bosmer had been right – it _would_ only serve to remind him of their night together.

Once they were both dressed, Ryndoril grabbed his small pack and fastened it back around his hips as usual. Ondolemar came over to him, and when Ryndoril looked up, the Altmer took his face in both hands and brought their lips together for a firm, sweet kiss. Ryndoril was grinning like a fool when he pulled away, and even Ondolemar’s small smile wouldn’t leave his lips.

“I’ll see you later,” Ondolemar murmured, brushing his thumb against Ryndoril’s cheek.

“Definitely,” Ryndoril agreed, his heart pounding with joy. Ondolemar walked to the door, opening it and peering out cautiously; his guards didn’t seem to be up yet, and he let Ryndoril know all was clear. The Bosmer gave him one last grin before vanishing around a corner, and Ondolemar closed his eyes, trying to imprint the beautiful smile on his memory.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my goodness I think it took forever to get this out on paper. It just wasn’t flowing right for the longest time and now I FINISHED IT! They finally got to have sex for the first time! And isn’t Anxious Ondolemar adorable? :P Also, sorry it’s so long – one of the longest I’ve posted as a one piece, but there wasn’t a good place to split it.
> 
> I commissioned a [BEAUTIFUL picture](http://chloexbowie.deviantart.com/art/Sunset-in-Markarth-Enchanted-Kiss-450660475) of these guys – the scene in the picture isn’t from this story (though the waterfall is mentioned!) but I wanted to link it in case you’d like to look anyway.
> 
> I love kudos and comments :D


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